Kitchen Table Confessions
by LilyGhost
Summary: This is my take on how a conversation between Stephanie and Helen would go if they were to ever honestly discuss their mother/daughter relationship. It's also a Babe story.


**While in the middle of writing another story, I asked myself why I thought Helen treated Stephanie the way that she does. After an hour of typing, this story is the answer that I came up with. This is my first non Ranger/Stephanie story. And although he isn't the center of it, Ranger is in here so this could also be considered a Babe story. All characters belong to Janet Evanovich. Any mistakes are mine.**

I couldn't count the number of times I've sat in this same chair, at this table, in this kitchen that never changes, listening to my mother go on and on about how badly I've screwed up. From the time I was little, up until now at thirty years old, I've just listened to her. It never occurred to me to ask _why_. Why did she only see my faults? Why can't she let me be happy? Why couldn't she just love me the way that I am, instead of what she needed me to be?

As she moved shirt number four to the ironing board. I asked myself all those questions, and couldn't come up with an answer to any of them. It never crossed my mind that I could just come out and ask her. We didn't do that in our family. We complimented each other through food, other peoples' problems, and ignored the rest. Just this once I wanted an honest answer as to why she had always been disappointed in me.

"Lena Galante's daughter would never have been standing for all the world to see covered in garbage. No. Only _my_ daughter." She set the iron down and crossed herself."How come it's always my daughter?"

I was pretty sure God wasn't going to answer her but just in case he decided to, I waited for her to go back to ironing before I spoke.

"Can I ask you a question Mom?"

"Your picture was in the paper, _again_, forcing me to leave the phone off the hook just to have a little peace and quiet, and you want to ask _me_ a question?"

"Yep." Sometimes it's easier to use one word. It's harder to find a way to argue with it.

"Well, what is it?"

"Why don't you like me?" I asked her."I mean, I know that you love me because I'm your daughter and all, but you don't seem to like who I am as a person very much."

"Stephanie Plum, that is the most ridiculous thing you have ever said. And you've said a lot of ridiculous things."

"See, that's exactly what I mean," I told her."You won't acknowledge my question, or even why I might be asking it. You just jump right to how foolish you think I'm acting."

"I most certainly am not."

Jeez. This was sounding like a repeat of my high school years. Except my mother was the one using the classic _am-not _argument.

"It's okay," I said to her."You don't have to answer if you don't want to. I just thought I'd try asking."

She looked at me, really looked at me, for once not immediately defensive."You are serious aren't you?"

"Yes," I said."But it's fine. I know parents always have a favorite." I wasn't as upset about my mother picking Valerie, since I knew for a fact that my father, and Grandma Mazur liked, and related to, me more than Valerie. And I've lived with my mother's choice for so long that I was mainly just curious what her answer would be if she gave one.

"I love both of my children equally," she said.

"Yeah, right," I said. I couldn't have stopped the laugh that preceded it if I had tried.

"It's true. You and Valerie_ are _very different, but I've always treated the both of you the same."

"No Mom, you didn't," I said to her."I'd get more chores. And Valerie would get a higher allowance. I lost my virginity and got grounded. Valerie loses hers and she got a new prom dress. I took a job with Vinnie and can't go a day without you calling me up complaining about it. Valerie gets knocked up while not being married and Albert gets invited over for dinner. Would you like me to go on?"

My mother didn't say anything for a long moment. She set the iron back on the board, and then sat down hard in the chair across from me."I never noticed that I was treating you any differently than Valerie."

I rolled my eyes so hard that I was afraid that they might get stuck in the back of my head."How could you _not _notice? Your right arm is probably bigger than your left one from all of the ironing, chopping, scrubbing, and baking that you've accused me of causing!"

"You can't really blame me for that. Do you know how hard it is for a mother to hear, over and over again, that someone is trying to kill her daughter?" She said to me."At least when you were growing up all I had to deal with was a broken arm. Now I have to worry about half of Trenton trying to hurt you on a daily basis."

Okay, I could give her that one. Everytime Ranger leaves for work in the morning I make him promise not to get shot. I know that him promising not to won't stop it from happening, but it does make me feel a little bit better.

A sigh escaped before I could stop it."I_ am _sorry for that. I know it can't be easy to worry about me," I said to her. That was something Morelli had always complained about. How he was single handedly keeping the makers of Mylanta in business."But you could just tell me that your scared for me, instead of shouting and trying to lay a guilt trip on me. You must know by now that I'm never going to settle down and have a life like yours, or like Albert and Valerie's."

This time she was the one sighing."I know," she said."You've always had your own mind, even when you were young, and I didn't know how to handle you."

"And you still don't, am I right?" I asked her.

Another sigh."Yes."

"And is that were Morelli came in?" I asked her."If you couldn't control my actions, maybe finding a man who thought the same way you did could?"

"That doesn't sound very good, does it?" She asked me.

"No, but it does sound an awful lot like the truth," I told her."That would explain why you were so mad at me when Joe and I broke up and I started seeing Ranger."

"Well, Joseph was perfect for you," she said.

"No. Joe was perfect for_ you,_" I told her."_Ranger_ is the one who is perfect for me, and you can barely have a conversation with him in the room."

"He's intimidating," she admitted."He doesn't talk a lot. He always dresses in black. And he carries a gun."

"Joe carried a gun, too."

"But I've known him, and his family, for years."

"And yet I can still remember you telling me when I was little, and also when I grew up, to stay far away from them. That those Morelli boys were nothing but trouble. And there you were angry at me for not marrying one of them."

"Joseph has changed."

"I know. And I'm happy that he has, but that doesn't make me want to live the rest of my life with him, either."

She gave me a small smile."I was still holding out hope for the two of you."

"You can kiss that hope goodbye, because it's not going to happen."

"Are you sure?"

"Completely," I said."And I have the boyfriend to prove it."

We were both quiet for a moment. My mother was probably trying to convince herself that it was okay that I wasn't going to marry Joe. And I was thanking God that I wasn't _already_ married to him. I liked my life now, and it would have turned out differently if I would have given in and done what she, and Joe, had pressured me to do.

"You know," I said, breaking into the silence,"we've talked about Valerie, Ranger and Joe, and parts of my childhood, but you still haven't answered my question," I said to her."Why haven't you been able to accept me and my life?"

She thought about it before speaking."I never sat down and thought about it before but, now that you've brought it up and I'm forced to really think about it, maybe how I've treated you had more to do with your grandmother than you."

"What does grandma have to do with it?"

"When _I_ was growing up, she and I were constantly disagreeing. Our fights weren't all that different than the ones we have now. She wanted me to loosen up and stop being so stuffy. And I wanted her to grow up and start acting her age."

"Wow," I said."That does sound familiar."

"And maybe subconsciously you reminded me of who she wanted for a daughter. A daughter that I could never be. And I resented the fact that the two of you were so much alike. I couldn't make her happy, but I know that you do."

"So you continued the cycle with me?"

"I didn't mean to," she said."It's just that you're always doing something to draw unwanted attention to yourself. It was easier to start blaming you, instead of asking myself why I was acting the way that I was. Your grandmother doesn't think her opinion matters to me, but it does. More than I'd ever want to admit."

"And you've never thought of talking to her about it?"

"We never talk about the important stuff in our lives. It's much easier to gripe about what the other one is doing. If we didn't do that, we wouldn't have much to say to each other."

"Maybe you can change that," I said.

My mother laughed."I don't think so. I'm not one for dressing like a teenager and visiting strip clubs."

I laughed just picturing that."No, but you could spend more time with her doing things that you both like. Shopping is always a good option. Just don't tell her she's too old to wear the clothes that she picks out."

"I suppose I can give it a try," she said."It can't make things worse at least."

I looked at the clock and knew Ranger was waiting for me."I gotta go," I said to her, standing up.

"You're leaving now?" She asked.

"Yeah," I told her."I have plans with Ranger, and if I don't show up on time the house will be swarming with Rangeman guys in a matter of minutes."

She studied my face for a moment."Ranger makes you happy, doesn't he?"

It was the first time that she actually acknowledged Ranger as the man in my life, and I felt a little of the weight I had been carrying disappear."He does," I said to her.

"Well, tell him that he's welcome here anytime," she said, but I could see a worry line starting to appear on her forehead."What on earth will we talk about over dinner?"

"Well, you can tell him about how you ran over the guy in the rabbit suit for me," I told her."That would be a good story to start bonding over."

"I'd forgotten all about that," she said.

Hard to believe probably killing a man, even if he was a bad man, would be something you'd forget. Probably the whiskey hidden behind the olive oil in the pantry helped with that.

The ringing of my cell phone broke into my thoughts."Yeah," I said.

"Babe, aren't you supposed to be here in front of me instead of being on the phone?"

My body started tingling at the sound of his voice."I got a little tied up here. But I'm on my way."

"You didn't mean that literally, did you?"

I laughed, even though it was a little sad that he had to ask."Nope. Everything's good." I looked at my mother."Maybe better than good," I said. I disconnected and turned back to my mother.

"I'll see you tomorrow," I told her. We weren't huggy people anymore than we were talk-about-our-feelings people, but I didn't just want to walk away with doing something to show the progress that we had made today.

"Before you leave," my mother said."I just want to say that I'm sorry. For how I treated you. For how I continually treat you. And while I can't say that I'll never voice my concerns, I do promise not to harp on them."

I thought that was probably a promise she wouldn't be able to keep, but I appreciated the sentiment behind it."Thanks, mom. Maybe we can just go forward from here." I gave her a quick hug before I could think too much about it, and walked back out to my car.

On the drive back to Rangeman, I thought about everything we had said to each other. Maybe it is never too late to go after what you want. After all, I have Ranger. And now it looks like after thirty years, I'm getting my mom, instead of my mother, back.


End file.
